Re-biking Slovakia to Poland

Kurt and I spent the last week biking through northwestern Slovakia from Vienna, Austria, to Krakow, Poland. We had a great ride with near ideal conditions, making good time as the hills and mountains rose before us, presenting more challenging climbs and descents. One day we kept putting in the miles, completing our 4th century of the journey.

One night we camped out at the base of the mouth of a huge cave overlooking beautiful mountain valleys. Another we made our home along a lake in the northern part of Slovakia, spending our time with some local teenagers cooking sausages around a campfire. Slovakia is the home to many historic castles mounted high on the hills above many cities and villages.

We have now arrived in Krakow and have spent several days relaxing, meeting fellow travelers at our hostel, and exploring the sites of this small, beautiful and historical city. Today we will bike west towards Auschewitz, visit the concentration camp tomorrow, and then progress westward to Prague.

Stories of Rain, Rivers, and Eastern European Hospitality

When the Rain Comes...

Within minutes of crossing the border from Bosnia into Croatia, we knew we were in for some nasty weather. Earlier in the afternoon, we had enjoyed a beautiful ride with Nate Kauffman over rolling hills down to the Croatian border post. Now on the other side of the bridge, the conditions had changed drastically. Dark clouds loomed overhead, and a stiff wind began to blow steadily against us. These were not exactly the ideal conditions that we had experienced through much of our tour in Bosnia, and I wasn't thrilled by the prospect of getting completely drenched just a few hours before setting up camp. When the wind increased to the point that our pedaling seemed to get us nowhere, we decided that this might be an opportunity to put ourselves at the mercy of the locals and see what happens.

Heading out of town, we noticed an old wooden barn that despite its worn and delapidated condition looked as though it might provide some adequate shelter until the storm passed. However, before we even got a chance to check it out, the farmer and his wife saw us from their patio on the other side of the road. Recognizing our need, they offered us a dry place to hang out until the storm passed. We ended up spending over an hour with this friendly Croatian family, enjoying drinks, fresh cherries, and attempting to communicate through a mixture of broken German and English.

Once the rain had slowed down considerably, we ventured north to the town of Novska and bought some groceries for dinner. Unfortunately, after exiting the supermarket the rain began to pick up again, this time with no indication that it would quickly pass. We asked a few locals about good places to camp in the area, and got a handful of strange looks in return. One young guy pointed across the street to a concrete bus station on the corner of a deserted parking lot. With a smile, he assured us that this would be a good place to stay dry for the night. Although I must admit that I didn't sleep the best, it did prove to be one of our most memorabe "campsites" thus far on the bike trip.

The following day, the rain continued. Riding north towards the Hungarian border, we pushed through the cold and wet until we arrived in the quiet town of Slatina. We again bought our groceries and set out to find an appropriate campsite. On the outskirts of town, we happened to pass by a small town park with lots of grass and a few large trees to help protect us from the wind. Since it was a public area, we decided to ask the owner of a corner store if it was OK to camp there. This turned out to be our wisest decision of the day.

Bozika, the friendly middle-aged store owner, soon made a few phone calls and determined that we would be fine to pitch our tents in the park across the street. At least that's what we thought she was trying to communicate to us through her rambling Croatian mixed with wild hang gestures. As we were halfway through cooking our pasta later in the evening, she appeared again, this time with two teenage girls that knew a fair amount of English. Turns out, she wanted to invite us to her home for dinner. Suddenly another night of pasta didn't seem so appealing, and we quickly accepted her offer. One plate of food led to another, and before long we had to start hiding our plates and cups under the table so she wouldn't continue filling them. It was a late of night of laughter and fun around the table, and as we left to return to our campsite, she insisted that we return in the morning for a 6am breakfast. Not exactly as early as we normally get up, but considering the circumstances...

We enjoyed a hearty meal of bacon, eggs, bread, vegetables and pastries the following morning, then said goodbye to Bozika and started to head across the street to pack up our things. But before we could get out the door, she started grabbing random food items off the shelves of the store and shoving them into our arms. It is hard to refuse hospitality, but at one point it felt as though she would give us the entire store if we let her. Our experience in those 12 brief hours begged the question... What compels this kind of selfless giving towards complete strangers? I have met very few people who would give as freely as she did to random, unknown travelers passing through. It was one of the most memorable experiences I have ever had in receiving hospitality, and left me with a lot to ponder as I pedaled away.

"Could You Cook Our Pasta, Please?"

Leaving Slatina, we ventured out again into the lingering cold rain. The temperature had dropped considerably overnight, and the going was difficult. On our way to the Hungarian border, we stopped at several different cafes along the road, staying long enough to feel our toes again and muster the energy and willpower to push on. On each ocassion, we met friendly locals who laughed as we staggered wet and dripping through the door. And every time, someone felt sorry enough for us to buy us a round of hot drinks, which helped considerably to warm us up and get us going again.

We sincerely hoped that crossing the border into Hungary would bring a change in weather. But when countries are literally the size of small states in the U.S., crossing a border doesn't guarentee much of a change in conditions. So the rain continued, and we were forced once again to find a somewhat sheltered campsite. After climbing a steep ascent out of Harkeny, we stopped at a fancy hilltop restaurant to see if we could camp in a grove of trees to the rear of their property. They assured us that this shouldn't be a problem, and if we had any interest in some tasty Hungarian specialities, we should come on over to the restaurant.

After setting up our tents for the night, we opted to save some money and go with our traditional meal of pasta and vegetables cooked over our campstove. But as we pulled out our canister of camping gas, we realized that the valve had not been properly shut from the night before, and we were without fuel for the stove. There were no towns within several kilometers of our campsite, and none of us felt like venturing back out into the rain to purchase more fuel.

So with our pot and bag of pasta in hand, Kurt and Dave walked over to the back entrance of the restaurant. It was an awkward proposition, but with a laugh the large chef agreed to cook up our pasta for us. Within a few minutes, we had our dinner of pasta, and had made a few friends at the restaurant as well. No doubt they will always remember the day three Americans showed up in the driving rain, camped under some trees out back, and asked for some help in cooking their pasta!

The following day we awoke to our fifth straight day of rain. By this time we were mentally unprepared to go much further in these miserable conditions, and so we rode for a few hours in the morning to the southern Hungarian town of Pecs. Here we decided it best to take a day off to dry out our gear and regroup. With the help of some local university students who found us near the center of town, we walked around and eventually located an apartment in a family's home that we could rent for the night, for a very reasonable price. We spent the remainder of the day in Pecs relaxing, cleaning up our things, and hoping for better weather in the morning.

Night Riding on the Danube

Like many of the other Eastern European countries that we have been riding through, Hungary is a land of quiet, friendly people, many of whom live in small agricultural villages. Still relatively sheltered from the influences of their Western European counterparts, the culture is rich and fascinating. Although the stream of tourists is rapidly increasing in many of these countries, it is still possible to ride through small midieval-looking villages and feel as though you are the first foreign traveler to pass through for months. However, as the European Union continues to grow and spread its influence across the continent, there are very legitimate fears among the people that their cultural and national identities will soon be lost. It is a good time to visit this part of the world.

Leaving Pecs, the weather finally turned to our favor and we pointed our bicycles northeast towards Budapest. Hungary has a well-developed system of cycling routes, one of which runs the entire length of the Danube River. The fertile Danube river valley is one of Hungary's leading agricultural areas, and often the cycle path runs along the top of a dike on the eastern bank of the river. It is straight, monotonous riding, and so on our first night we decided to mix things up a bit and ride through part of the night. It was finally beautiful weather, and we were determined to take advantage of it! Free from the traffic of the roads, we used the light of the moon to light our path, and enjoyed the peaceful sounds of the night as we continued north along the river bank. It was a wonderful experience.

Following the gentle upgrade of the river, we made the next day our longest thus far, riding the remaining 110 miles to the beautiful city of Budapest. Exhausted from the long ride, we eventually found a hostel on the west side of the city called the Backpackers Guesthouse. A brightly painted, well-designed residential house in the suburbs of the city, the hostel was a gathering point for travelers from all over the world. Our first night there were over 50 people there, some sleeping in bunk beds, others on the floor (that would be me!), and others on the patio out back. It was a lively atmosphere, and the melting pot of nationalaties present made for a very enjoyable stay. We stayed up late on many nights, sharing traveling stories, talking about life, and getting to know people from around the world.

We did of course get out of the hostel a few times to explore the city as well. One of my good friends from high school has a sister, Janelle Zook, who has spent the last two summers teaching English in Budapest. On Tuesday morning she took us on a tour of the western side of the city (Buda). Glad for an opportunity to get off the bikes, we walked up to the citadel and presidential palace on a hill overlooking the Danube for a wonderful view of the city, and later stopped at a small Hungarian cafe for lunch. It continues to amaze me that in almost every country we visit, there are friends or acquantances that also happen to be there, which of course provide great opportunities to make connections and share in other people's experiences as well.

The Flat That Wouldn't Go Away

From Budapest we crossed the Danube at the touristy town of Esztergam and spent the following days riding through western Slovakia. Of all the countries that we have ridden through, Slovakia has reminded me the most of my home area of southeast Pennsylvania. Or at least how it might have looked 100 years ago, before the rise of tourism and urbanization. Rolling hills, small farming communities, and quiet streams and forests made it a real treat to ride through.

Since we had several days before we needed to be in Vienna, we picked a random destination in central Slovakia by the name of Banska Stiavnica and headed in that direction. We really didn't know a thing about where we were going, except that our map had a little castle icon next to the village, so we knew there must be something worth checking out there. Although we hadn't intended to take a particularly leisurely approach to getting to this town, sometimes the amount of progress made is completely out of your control. Like when you experience 8-10 flats on the same tire, and no amount of patching or changing of tubes seems to help. We ended up doing barely 60km that day, and by evening the only remaining option was for Dave to push his bike the final 8km into town. Fortunately Eric and Kurt had already rode ahead, found a local guy who knew the owner of a bike shop in town, and were able to buy an extra tube and patch kit even though it was well after closing time. It was a frustrating day, but considering that we had no pressing destination or schedule crunch, we made the most of it and managed to find the humor in it all.

And the best part was that our slow pace made it possible to connect with a Slovakian couple who also were doing some cycle touring in the area of Banska Stiavnica. We met Igor and Monica outside of the supermarket in town, and after talking for a bit they invited us to ride with them to a small lake above town where they intended to also camp for the night. They spoke excellent English, and were eager to help us have a wonderful experience in their home country of Slovakia. The following morning, after enjoying a breakfast together, Igor gave us a detailed route for riding to Bratislava, where we could cross the river into Austria.

Our ride west to Bratislava was a most enjoyable one, full of more interesting experiences in Slovakian hospitality. Two days later, we are now in Vienna, where we will spend a few days exploring the city and relaxing a bit. We are staying with Bernd Koppenhoefer, a friend of our family who has been working in Vienna for the past three years. And we are excited to get together this afternoon with Renee Glick, a friend of ours from EMU who also happens to be in the city during the same time we are.

From Vienna, our paths will split for the next month. Dave and Kurt will ride back into Slovakia and make their way north to Krakow, Poland. Meanwhile, I will ride through Austria into the Czeck Republic and visit the city of Prague for a few days, before continuing west to Frankfurt. A close friend of mine from Lancaster, Wayne Groff, is flying into Frankfurt in early July, and we plan to spend a little over two weeks traveling around Germany together. In mid-July, all four of us plan to reunite in Berlin, before Dave and I catch our flight east to India. As always we would appreciate your prayers during the coming month as yet another chapter of this journey comes to a close and we transition into the next.

Busing the Balkans

It has now been nearly two weeks since our first border crossing on bicycles into Bulgaria, beginning our travels in the Balkan countries. Today we will have our second border crossing on our bikes into Croatia, even though we have spent the last two weeks traveling throughout four countries and one United Nations Protectorate, observing and learning about the complex and tragic history of this region. Much has happened and many people have been met, and it is still difficult to summarize the last few weeks in words...

While in Sofia, Bulgaria, we decided to make a bit of a route switch and get a bus to Kosovo instead of cycling northwest through Serbia to Sarajevo. Because of our schedule and our strong desire to visit some friends in the region, we felt that switching to buses for a week would be a justified option.

So on May 27th, we loaded our bikes under the bus and headed for Skopje, Macedonia where we would get a connecting bus to Pristina, Kosovo. Although Kosovo is working its way towards being an independent state, its current status is a UN Protectorate, which has been the case since June of 1999. In March of the same year, the Serbian Army (Christian Orthodox) moved to empty the country of its Albanian Muslim populaion, causing nearly 850,000 people to flee in order to escape violent ethnic cleansing. A bombing campaign was launched against the Serbs by the US & NATO that put a halt to some of the violence on the ground, causing Serb forces to pull out. Only 6 years later, the effects of this war were very visible on both the land and the people of Kosovo.

It is primarily because of the fact that Pristina is the hometown of two of my friends that I had interest in visiting. An international exchange student from EMU, Lutka Demaj, came to the US to study business in Virginia. During my time studying there, I got to know Lutka better and learned a lot about Kosovo's history and situation. This past summer I worked at Grand View Hospital in Pennsylvania and found that another Pristina native was working in my same department. Fadil and I soon became good friends, spending the summer months working together. After hearing so much about the region, I was curious to visit and see it for myself.

As our bus crossed the UN border and made its way to Pristina, the one thing that caught my attention first was how many buildings were being constructed or reconstructed. I had expected to see more visible damage from the bombings during the war, but more than anything, the regions we were passing through were being rebuilt, looking new and Western. We were greeted with warm hospitality in Pristina as we asked for directions to find our way around (since the war, there are only a few streets labeled with signs) and made our way to connect with the Demaj family. We met Lutka's sisters and mother and had a wonderful evening with them, including a delicious Albanian meal.

The next day we explored the city a little more and were able to connect with Fadil's two children still living in Pristina. Most of the family had left when the war broke out and moved the the US, settling in Harleysville, my hometown. Over coffee and dinner, we learned more from Arbana and Arben, realizing that we had been neighbors only a few years ago, but were meeting for the first time not in Pennsylvania, but in Kosovo. Our time in Kosovo also included a visit to the pictureque town of Prizren and the international evangelical church, both which were learning experiences and brought to light some of the complexity of the region that has been a result of international involvement.

We have mentioned briefly in other writings that the image of America to the world is not one that is readily welcomed. It was a pleasant surprise for is in Kosovo, however, that the United States is the most popular foreign country. There is a hotel with a miniature model of the statue of liberty on the roof and a street named after Bill Clinton. We were told that at graduations, the American flag hangs next to the flag of Kosovo. It was definitely a strange feeling...

From Kosovo, our next destination was Sarajevo, Bosnia, which required a round-about bus route taking us back through Skopje, Macedonia and Belgrade, Serbia. We decided to take two overnight buses and spent the days in the capital cities, allowing for time to explore but little to sleep. When we arrived in Sarajevo, Bosnia early in the morning, we were a bit dazed but excited to be in a beautiful city with a complex history.

The war in Bosnia broke out in 1992, a year after the country declared its independence from Yugoslavia, when Serbian snipers killed a dozen peace demonstrators in the Holiday Inn. The city of Sarajevo was under Serbian siege for the next three years, leaving over 10,000 civilians dead. Brutal ethnic cleansing occured in the region as Serbians expelled Muslims from northeastern Bosnia, terrorizing and looting villages, destroying homes in order to prevent the return of refugees. Concentration camps were also set up for both Bosnian Muslims and Croats (Roman Catholic from Croatia), the two non-Serbian ethnic groups living in the region. As a region of the country was set up for these two groups by the UN, violence continued between all three groups and NATO slowly became involved. Once of the most tragic events of the war was when 6000 Muslim men were massacred by the Serbian army as they fled through the forest in 1995. Soon after, the US and UN once again stepped up involvment and agreements were reached to split the country half, one being the Muslim-Croat Federation and the other as the Republic of Srpska.

As we can only attempt to imagine the recent violence of this region, it becomes evident that despair and hopelessness would be two of the largest obstacles since the war. The city of Sarajevo is a mosaic of churches and mosques and synagogues, surrounded by buildings painted with the evidence of shelling and fire. Employment in many towns ranges from 60-85%, and many Bosnians are used to surviving only, as attempts to improve the progression of the country are coming very slowly. Tensions between ethnic/religious groups still abound.

Our friend from EMU, Cathy Smith, is currently serving in a one year SALT term with MCC in the Bosnian town of Jajce. Cathy connected us to MCC Bosnia and we have spent the last week learning local initiatives working with refugees and bridging camps between ethnic and religious groups.

In Sarajevo we spent some time with Keziah Conrad who is working with the Pontanima Interreligious Choir. This group is composed of members from all of Bosnia's religous and ethnic groups and sings music from their collective traditions - Jewish, Orthodox Christian, Islamic, Catholic and Protestant. We were blessed to sit in on a practice one evening and watch the diverse group sing. The choir tours villages around the country, and have been received in powerfully moving ways as their bridge gaps between faiths that share a common violent past.

From Sarajevo, we hopped back on our bikes for our longest day of the trip at 160km to reach the town of Jajce where Cathy is staying. We spent the weekend relaxing with her, hanging out and enjoying a beautiful Saturday walk out along the river to the lakes on the edge of town. Cathy works with a womens' group which has recently organized a large-scale childrens festival including many from surrounding villages.

We spent a lot of time talking about how our experiences have been affecting us and about what it might be like for us to go back to the states, back into American culture, and how to share with our home communities. I can still remember clearly back to last summer when I said goodbye to Cathy as she was beginning her one year experience. Now as she is starting to see the remaining months of her time in Bosnia, it starts to remind me that our trip will eventually be winding down too.

Most of our time in Bosnia has felt like I was just trying to figure out what had happened here with the wars and what had caused the larger general ambiguity in my mind. It has become increasingly difficult throughout this trip to express the experience in writing and to critically process it as we go. There is also an important balance between spending our time writing/processing and actually living out the experience. The two come in waves of intensity, but it often feels that our desire is to do more living and less talking. The learning will come later as it needs to, making everything clear.

Many of the people here seem to struggle to look ahead down the road, beyond the survival mentality that results from living through a war. When I look ahead into this journey, I see the end of July as a time when Cathy returns to America, the bike trip comes to an end in Germany, and Eric and I fly to India to begin the final stretch of our trip across Asia. The past year has been an indescrible experience for all of us, and the paradox of trying to live and think both now and ahead comes more into my mind as the journey progresses. It seems like a lot of the challenge during the steps ahead will be finding the best way to be aware of where we are and where we are going, as we will be there soon enough.

We are now in Prijador, Bosnia with MCC workers Nate and Jen Kauffman and will spend our day biking from here into Croatia.

----------

While in Sarajevo, we discovered the exhibit of a video written and performed by Damir Niksic, a recreation of the Fiddler on the Roof's "If I Was a Rich Man...". One of the goals of his work is to raise awareness that some of the tragedies in this part of the world are the same tragedy that has reoccured throughout history in many different places and times. This project identifies the Bosnian Muslim history with the Jewish tragedy during the holocaust at the hands of religious intolerance within Christian Europe.

IF I WASN'T MUSLIM - Damir Niksic

If I wasn't Muslim
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba deedle deedle dum.
If I wasn't born Mohammedan
Life for me would have been fun.

I wouldn't have to worry
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba deedle deedle dum.
What will happen in a year or two
Will I have to leave or stay and die
Drop my pants to be identified and put aside
Just 'cause I'm a Mussulman?